


Bee's Kinktober Day Sixteen

by thefruitbasket



Series: Bee's Kinktober 2020 [10]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Cunnilingus, Established Relationship but make it messy, F/F, Kinktober 2020, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27052837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefruitbasket/pseuds/thefruitbasket
Summary: Kinktober Day Sixteen: CunnilingusA simple meeting turns into something much more. And while they'd hardly even been on speaking terms for the last five years, things were messy enough already, having sex could hardly make it worse.
Relationships: Original Human Character(s)/Original Human Character(s)
Series: Bee's Kinktober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949038
Kudos: 2





	Bee's Kinktober Day Sixteen

**Author's Note:**

> Same couple as my day eleven prompt, just many years later after their relationship had soured.

Estelle rose as well when Martia stood to leave, and for a moment the two of them just stared at one another, uncertain what to say. Estelle looked uncomfortable, which Martia couldn't blame her for. Their past few meetings recently had been far from normal. It wasn't every day one's estranged wife came knocking on your door to tell you about the crimes she's committed while trying to dismantle a sinister secret group, after all. 

"Thanks for the coffee and food," Martia said to try and break the silence, "and sorry for spoiling your afternoon."

Estelle gave a half-hearted laugh, gesturing to the sea of ledgers and account information still littering the coffee table, "I did that myself with all this paperwork." 

Another beat of silence, Martia fidgeted with her watch and Ginger's tail absentmindedly bumped her leg as the homunculus waited for Martia to do something. 

"I'll have Ivan send word when my airship lands tomorrow," Martia finally said, stepping towards the door, "Should be sometime in the morning." 

Estelle nodded, her gaze still focused on the papers on the table in front of her, as if thinking about something. 

Martia's hand was on the door handle when Estelle spoke up again.

"Martia...wait a moment." She glanced back to find Estelle moving closer, "What else are you doing today?"

Martia looked down at Ginger as if the homunculus could answer that for her and received just a vacant stare. Looking back up, she said, "I suppose I have to run by Ivan's apartment again to pick some stuff up, but other than that I was just intending to lay low. Why do you ask?" 

Estelle scanned her face for a bit, and Martia resisted the urge to squirm away from the stare. Estelle had always had intense eyes; they were one of the main things Martia had been attracted to when the first met but now they filled her with dread as she thought about how those eyes had looked when their marriage had fallen apart after Felix's death. 

Then she felt Estelle's hand ever so slightly close around her wrist, bringing her back to the present.

"Stay? At least a little longer?" Martia looked at her with half shock, half confusion, and seeing her expression, Estelle went on, "It'd be nice if our meetings were more than ten minutes long." 

Martia blinked, not expecting this at all, and stumbled over her reply, "I, uh, suppose I can stay. I don't want to keep you from your work, though." 

Estelle laughed again, a little more naturally, "Frankly I don't know if I have the will to get back to it right now." 

"Yeah, sorry about that." 

Estelle sighed, "It's alright. I suppose it can't be helped. Come sit back down."

Martia allowed herself to be brought back to the couches, Ginger silently following, but before she could sit down Estelle stopped and stared at her again. 

"You said you don't know when you will return?" 

Martia shrugged, "It depends on my party and what we have to do. I'd prefer to return sooner rather than later, but I don't want to make promises I can't keep." 

Estelle nodded slowly, chewing the inside of her cheek as she sometimes did when thinking hard. 

"Can I kiss you?" she asked abruptly. 

Martia blinked again. Of all the things she thought she might hear when visiting Estelle today, this was not one of them. 

"E-excuse me?" She stammered in reply. 

"Can I kiss you?" Estelle repeated, "So I can have something nice to remember about our last visit before you disappear to who knows where." 

Martia's mouth suddenly felt very dry, and where Estelle was lightly holding her wrist it felt like her skin was burning. 

She knew the answer she wanted to give: Yes, absolutely,  _ please _ , yet she struggled to bring the words to her mouth. Martia settled instead for just giving a quick nod, and she could have sworn the corner of Estelle's mouth tilted upwards just a little. 

Estelle released her wrist then so that she could reach her hands up to cup Martia's cheeks. The touch was simultaneously red hot and freezing as her skin fought to comprehend the long forgotten sensation. 

They were not a stage in their relationship where kissing was acceptable. They'd hardly spoken for five years, a good majority of which had seen Estelle filling her bed with lovers while Martia spent her time in a drug-induced delirium. There was a whole host of problems they needed to work on before anything like this should have even been thought about. What they needed was to go to counseling, not kiss. 

But that entire train of thought utterly dissolved at the slightest brush of Estelle's lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss, hardly more than a quick press of their mouths together, but it made Martia's heart pound in her chest.

She's not sure which of them went in for the second kiss, but then their lips were meeting again, a little firmer this time. 

This pattern continued for a third, fourth, and fifth time until they stopped pulling away and just actually stood there and kissed each other in earnest. Martia hardly even noticed when Estelle's arms wrapped around her neck, nor when her own slid around Estelle's waist. 

It wasn't until she felt the gentle tug of Estelle pulling her towards the couch behind her that anxiety began making Martia's throat tight again. 

"Should we be doing this?" She asked very quietly. 

Estelle stilled and looked at her, "Do you want to stop?" 

Martia laughed her first genuine laugh in ages, "No, not really." 

Estelle laughed with her, "Everything's fucked right now, might as well make some more poor choices on top of it all." 

Then she kissed her again with renewed vigor and Martia didn't fight as Estelle brought them to the couch and laid them down. It was a bit of an awkward fit as they tried to determine what limbs ought to go where, but eventually, they found something sort of comfortable, Martia propping herself up on an elbow while Estelle's hands greedily clutched at her sweater. 

Martia didn't know how long they laid there kissing before suddenly Estelle drew back and looked to the side. Martia followed her gaze and found Ginger sitting over by the other chair, staring at them. 

"Does she have to watch?" Estelle asked. 

The homunculus wasn’t saying or doing anything, but Martia could imagine how her eyes might have been unnerving, especially in a moment like this. “Sorry, I suppose I haven’t really done anything like this since I made her. Ginger, can you go lay down in the kitchen?” 

Ginger offered as good of a smile as her panther face would allow, before trotting off with a “Sure!” 

They waited until the sound of her paws had sufficiently retreated, leaving them alone in the sitting room. 

“Better?” Martia asked. 

Estelle nodded, “She just has very...focused eyes.” 

“There have been more than a few mornings where I’ve woken up to have her standing right beside my cot staring at me. I bought a little cushion for her so I could start telling her to go lay down before I went to bed.” 

They both laughed a little and Martia was amazed at how natural it felt. 

Then Estelle was pulling her back down for a kiss, and Martia soon forgot about Ginger altogether in favor of trying to focus on having her beautiful wife in her arms. How many times had she imagined this? How many lonely nights had she laid in her office yearning for this life back? 

A dark part of her mind was also wondering how many times Estelle had done this with someone else over the past five years. How many people had laid with her and listened to her make the same soft sighs she was making now?

She tried not to dwell on it, what’s done was done; Martia couldn’t undo five years of separation. 

Estelle’s hands found the hem of her sweater and started tugging it up, and it was a welcome distraction from her own thoughts. They moved apart and sat up so Martia could remove her sweater, it being tossed over to the other couch. Seconds later Estelle’s blouse followed suit, then she was atop Martia’s lap, untucking her shirt and undoing the buttons with impressive dexterity. 

Estelle stilled suddenly when she went to slide the shirt from Martia’s shoulders, her gaze locked on Martia’s chest, and she could guess what she was seeing. The two bullet wounds from the fight in the warehouse had healed, but they’d left behind nasty scars on her chest. 

“I’m alright,” Martia whispered, “they just didn't scar pretty.” 

“I still think about opening my door to find you standing there, covered in blood,” Estelle said softly. 

“Not my best decision, I’ll admit, but in my defense, I was a little rattled.” 

“No kidding.” Estelle touched the bigger of the two, right on her sternum, and Martia let her sit there for a moment looking at it. To be frank, she appreciated the moment to breathe. There was a lot going on, Martia was certain Estelle could probably hear how loudly her heart was beating. 

There was an odd cocktail of anxiety, fear, and arousal in her gut at the moment. She didn’t know if she wanted to run out the door and never look back or pull off both their clothes and never get out of their bed again. 

“Martia…” Estelle began, slowly dragging her touch up Martia’s chest and coming to rest on her cheek, “Promise me this won’t be the last time we see each other.” 

Martia met Estelle’s stare, seeing the fierceness she held in her eyes.

“I’ll certainly try—” 

“No. Don’t try. Promise me you’ll come back,” Martia nearly flinched from the force with which Estelle said it, “I don’t care if you mean it or not, but promise me.” 

She knew trying to argue Estelle’s stubbornness would get her nowhere, so Martia nodded, “I promise. This will not be the last time we see each other.” 

She didn't know if she believed herself, but that seemed to be sufficient to Estelle because she gave a curt nod as if she was confirming a business deal, then returned to her previous task of removing Martia’s shirt. The woman seemed uninterested in prolonging things any further because no sooner had Martia’s shirt come off, Estelle was unclasping her bra and sending it flying, her own following shortly after. 

They fell back onto the couch, and the feeling of bare skin on hers was amazing. Estelle groaned against her lips, and Martia shivered as she lightly scraped her nails down her back. 

Even as she was kissing her way down Estelle's torso for the first time in five years, the nagging thought at the front of her mind was how bad of an idea this was. Even as she closed her mouth around one of Estelle's nipples and listened to the pleased sigh her wife gave, she couldn't help but think that they would regret this come tomorrow. 

She continued to think thoughts like this even as she slid off the couch and pulled off Estelle's trousers and underwear. What finally banished the worries from her head was the quiet moan of her name that Estelle gave when she put her head between her thighs. 

In the earlier years of their marriage, before everything, Martia had considered herself quite good at this. But now, while certainly Estelle seemed to be very pleased with the attention she was giving her, Martia had to admit to herself that she felt terribly out of practice. Where did Estelle like her tongue to be? Was that too much pressure or not enough? Did her jaw always get this sore so quickly? 

Estelle offered her a couple brief directions,  _ to the left _ , _ a little faster _ ,  _ oh fuck right there! _ , and before long Estelle's head was thrown back as she gasped and moaned in pleasure. One of her hands was clasped over her breast, kneading it and tugging at her nipple, and the other was woven tightly into Martia's hair to keep her from moving her head. 

Martia appreciated the enthusiasm, and she definitely enjoyed the slight sting of having her hair pulled, but the hand was unnecessary as a means of keeping her in place. If Estelle only asked, Martia would never move from this spot, happy to kneel in front of the woman of her dreams and send her to another plane from pleasure. 

"Put your fingers in me." Came a gasped command from Estelle, who was largely out of breath after only a couple minutes of this. Martia had always doubted the stories of people who could climax with no stimulation, but the sound Estelle made when she slipped two fingers into her made her tense as if she was the one on the receiving end. 

Setting a steady pace of pumping her fingers, Martia returned her mouth to Estelle's clit, muscle memory she thought she'd lost taking over. Her free hand fumbled with the button on her trousers, cursing how difficult it was to undo with only one hand. When it was done, she shoved her hand into her pants and roughly palmed at herself through her underwear, moaning slightly around Estelle's clit as she finally touched herself. 

She was starting to ache all over at this point; her jaw, both her wrists, her knees, but Martia refused to let up, not when Estelle was looking and sounding as amazing as she was. Her nails scraped against Martia’s scalp just a little as she adjusted her hold on her hair. She didn't usually like having her hair pulled so hard, but gods was she making sounds that said otherwise when Estelle tightened her grip. 

When Estelle came, she did so with a long, shaky moan of her name, pushing her hips up into Martia’s face. Martia sat back on her heels when she settled down and released her hair, hand removed from her pants as she stretched sore joints. 

“Fuck, I’m getting old,” she muttered, rubbing her jaw. 

From where she lounged on the couch, Estelle chuckled before extending a hand to help Martia up. Upon spotting Martia’s unbuttoned pants, Estelle said, “Want a hand with that?” 

“I wouldn’t complain.” 

At Estelle’s direction, Martia pulled off her pants and underwear and they switched positions, with Martia now reclining on the couch with Estelle knelt between her legs. 

It was one thing to awkwardly touch herself and another entirely to have someone else touch her for the first time in five years. The sound Martia made when Estelle’s mouth closed around her clit perhaps wasn’t the most dignified of sounds, but Estelle didn’t seem to mind. It felt better than she could ever describe, but Martia soon became well aware that this was going to be over pitifully quickly. 

Logically, she could hardly blame herself. She’d gone five years with literally no sexual activity, even on her own, so of course she was going to have a short fuse. But the rest of Martia felt her face burn as she clung to the hand Estelle had placed on her thigh. Estelle had always been amazing at this, and clearly her skills had not declined even a bit with their time apart. 

Climax swept over her like a wave. Not quite hitting her with all the force it did when they were younger and tangled up in one another in bed, but still taking her breath away. She tensed and let out a quiet sigh as Estelle worked her through it before drawing away. 

Estelle quietly stood up and joined her on the couch, the two of them laying down in each other’s arms and just enjoying the feeling of a warm body against their own. They laid there in silence for an unknown length of time, before their position on the couch started to get uncomfortable. Nothing was said between them as they collected their now rumpled clothing and redressed. When they stood before one another, looking much more flustered than they had earlier, Estelle finally spoke. 

“Be careful, alright?” 

Martia nodded, “I will.”

Estelle came closer and fiddled with the collar of Martia’s shirt like she used to, “Until next time, then.” 

“I look forward to it.” 

Estelle smiled, and they shared a gentle kiss before Martia called Ginger back from the kitchen and made for the door. 

And then Martia was back in the hallway, Ginger following along as she made for the elevator. They go halfway there before Ginger’s voice rang in her head.

“What were you two doing? It felt weird.” 

Martia froze, feeling her face go dark red. Ginger’s telepathic link to her was not something Martia had considered in regards to intimate events. Perhaps if this was something that would continue in the future, she would need to think about a way to keep Ginger from having access to her mind at all times. 


End file.
